Life in all it's unglorious moments
by lilacpily
Summary: It's a merder fic starting at 9x07, from meredith's point of view


Hi, so I have written fanfics before, like about two years ago but well, I didn't really have the time to pursue them and I ended up deleting them because I have a deep hatred towards anything I write. anyhow, I'm back, and hopefully, well I think any I should have a bit more time to devote to writing these fanfics, if people actually want to read them, which due to my deep self loathing hatred of things I write I find that unlikely. This story is in first person, I usually write in third or second so tell me what you think.

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The fire flickered in the fireplace, casting an amber glow throughout the bedroom, it was almost hypnotic, watching the flames shimmer and dance above the glistening embers seemingly etched into the burning logs. I often found all my worries, all my fears, slipping away, burning down to nothing, when I was staring at the fire but not tonight.

No, tonight, today, was different. Today, today I found out I was pregnant, again and for a second I felt excited, ecstatic even but then after that brief second had elapsed, reality set in. The reality is pregnancy and me do not mix, we have torrid past that ended in devastation and pain. The reality is I am scared out of my mind, that this pregnancy will follow the same fate of the last one.

It was weird though Derek and I tried for almost a year, to get pregnant and throughout the whole time I never really thought about what it would be like to be pregnant again, how it would feel. I guess I had just resigned myself to the likelihood that it would never happen but it did.

"Hey" derek says softly, bringing me back from my spiralling thoughts. He pulls back the sheets and slides into bed.

"Zola, went back to sleep fine, she was thirsty, apparently" he says pulling me into his warm arms.

"That's good" I say.

"What where you thinking about" he asks, linking his fingers through mine.

"huh"

"Before, you were staring at the fire place, I mean Mer you were almost catatonic."

"Oh" I say.

"I was thinking about this, about" I say gesturing towards my stomach.

"the stakes are so high this time Derek."

"I know" he says.

"We know what it's like to love a child now" I say, looking up at his blue eyes, I can see the same fear I know is in mine, he's scared too.

"And we know what's like to believe we've lost a child and honestly I don't know if I could live through that pain again?"

"We won't" he says, his reassuring words, do little to quell the fear I have.

"How do you know?" I ask.

"Because good things do happen to us." he says.

"But how do you know this is a good thing." I ask.

I mean when you think about it, everything always seems like a good thing until it's not, until you're hurtling towards the ground and the wind is gushing into the plane, and you, you can hear metal bowing and bending and pine trees splintering like cheap chinese matchsticks, and it's all clearly not okay. If there is one thing I've learnt in life is you can not predict the future, you can't tell what things in life are going to manifest as great things and which things are going to rip the life you once knew into tiny almost obsolete shreds.

"because," he says, "sometimes, I get a feeling like I know how something is gong to turn out and I having a feeling that this is going to turn out."

"a feeling doesn't make something so." I say, because cheesy cutesy phrases, really don't do anything to stop bad stuff happening. If they did half the crap in our lives, would have been nothing but a bad dream and not this darkness, that seems to consume our lives.

"If I had have told you last time, before, you know it happened, the miscarriage, would you have had a feeling that was going to work out well?" I ask.

"I" he says, stumbling, unable to answer the question.

"I might have, if I knew before the shooting" he says, truthfully and he would have, in the before, told me everything was going to be okay.

"I might have told you everything was going to work out great, that we'd be holding a squidgy baby in eight months time." he admits.

"see, you don't know" I say, placing my hand on my lower stomach, hoping that life will throw us a bone, a rope, a save, and keep this little life, living.

"anything could happen"I say.

"you didn't let me finish Meredith." he says, his hand joining mine, it's warm, or maybe mine is incredibly cold.

"if you told me before the shooting, I would have probably thought every thing was going to be okay, but if you had told me during the shooting, if i had of known.." he pauses for a moment.

"if i had known that a crazed gun man what shoot me, and then point a gun at you, I probably wouldn't have thought everything was going to be okay." he says.

The truth, it's not always pleasant or what we want to hear but that make it any less important to know.

"you have a hostile uterus Meredith, but some how you have defied the odds, and you're pregnant, but I don't think your going to have a miscarriage this time" he say.

"baring gun crazed men shooting up the hospital again, of course" he says with a half smile on his face.

"this baby, is a survivor just like you and me, I know it."

"you really think so?" I ask

"I know so"he says, "life it has a way of working out, in unexplained, unpredictable ways." he says and i realise I guess it does, have way of working out, in ways you'd imagine it would.

"Five years ago, did you think we would be lying here, with you pregnant, and an almost two year old daughter?" he asks, looking at me, with such love and adoration.

"No" I admit.

Truthfully, five years ago, I would never have seen myself married, to the at the time, the awkward one night stand turned boss, who I really didn't have any feelings for, or any that I did I suppressed. I would have thought that in five years time, I would still be living in my childhood home, the one that only really held bad and depressing memories of pain and abandonment. I didn't think I wanted kids, or kids would want me as their mother. My life, is nothing like the cold emotionally devoid life I had imagined for myself.

"No it's defiantly not want I would have pictured" I say aloud. "is it what you imagined?"

"No, yes, I don't know, perhaps it was the life that I wanted but not the life I thought I'd have." he says, staring at the fire place.

"we've come a long way." I say, because it's another truth, we really have come a long and treacherous way.

"we have, but we still have a long way to go, I mean we're going to have to go through midnight feeds and diaper changes again, and we just got Zola toilet trained." he says with that canny grin.

I let out a small laugh, maybe his words aren't necessarily going to hold true but maybe they were and perhaps hope, was enough for now, until that day that we were holding that squishy pink baby in our arms at midnight trying to sooth it back to sleep. We lye there for what seems like hours, just staring at the dwindling fire, content to just live in the moment, together.

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So there it is, I don't know whether i'll continue this story or not, or whether I even should, I. Could very well axe it. So let me know what you think X


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